


Revisited Rivalry

by adelindschade



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelindschade/pseuds/adelindschade
Summary: “If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it by now; tormenting you is a completely different story."
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt/Adalind Schade
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81





	Revisited Rivalry

**Author's Note:**

> A little pressure, lots of sweat - hey, get your mind out of the gutter! 
> 
> A little competition doesn't hurt, and what better than between old rivals? A little snippet of a Gym-Outing. 
> 
> (A drabble to help me work out some writer's block kinks). Enjoy!

_Your playlist is trash – Nick_

Adalind emitted an audible gasp, pausing mid-jog to reread the text.

Just as quickly as she gauged the _ping_ in ear notifying her of his text, she spun her head to where she last saw him – and discovered he had stayed. Across the room, along the row of treadmills, all lonesome in the middle – his choice. Instead of focusing ahead on his screen of stats, his eyes were on her, and his expression was smug.

Just as quickly as he disrupted her, he returned to his original work-out – visibly quickening his pace to a full out run. She stood at a stand-still, taking a moment longer to wrap her head around what had transpired.

“Excuse me, are you using this?”

She looked swiftly to her left to see an older woman waiting impatiently by the treadmill. Poorly hiding her contempt, she exhaled heavily, and nodded. Fixing her face towards him again, she reassessed her priorities then and there.

“Sure,” she allowed, stepping off on the other side, and reaching over to grab her water bottle.

“Thanks,” the woman replied but by then, Adalind was out of earshot, weaving in between the machinery with a noticeable purpose.

He was anticipating her presence but to his surprise, she had passed him – not even sparing him a look – and went straight to the floorboards next to a selection of mats and rollers. She looked herself over through the wall of mirrors, twisting slightly to appreciate her form, and then situated herself on a long mat.

_Damn,_ he thought.

For someone who swore she didn’t sweat, she wasn’t novice either about her health. Nick knew she was strict about her diet – but her form? He was curious. She was strong – a wesen feature rather than an individual trait – but she was immaculate about keeping a particular shape. Petite, slender, and emphasize on the legs – given her weakness for expensive, impractical shoes.

_Oh, he knew her plan,_ he realized, smiling upon the revelation. _But he was not like the others,_ he decided determinedly. He looked away, focused on the number on the screen, and the trail simulator in the center.

A song change shifted his focus.

_Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I’m homebound…_

He uttered a gruff sound, reaching over to fix the selection. Somehow, their phones were synced, and because of such, his playlist was randomly sabotaged by hers. Last song would certainly stick to memory for who knows how long, much to his chagrin. Christina Aguilera had plenty of hits – none of which Nick needed in his head.

She was flexible but after two kids, especially the last one being a difficult c-section, she struggled. Yet, she was persistent, pushing herself to the point she could _almost_ achieve her previous record. Yoga wasn’t sufficient, too mundane for her taste, but she did like stretch exercises to keep her limbs nimble. On all fours as if preparing for a push up, she practiced the common ones: bringing her knee inwards to her opposing elbow, then repeating with the other. Then reverting back to her prior form: hold and crawl to the center until she mimicked a very suspenseful downward dog. Good for the core, amazing the glutes.

She flattened out again, adjusting her posture so her knees would be the ones making contact, instead of her toes. Her ponytail whipped her back – slapping the skin of her racerback tank.

Back leg out, hold, higher… higher.

“Ouch,” she hissed, feeling the pressure increase. 1…2…3… Release.

Same with the other. Hold… 2…3…

_Good pain_ , she convinced herself.

Another ping alarmed her through her earbuds. She glanced down at her watch where a new notification greeted her.

**_Nick Burkhardt completed a circle!_ **

“Bastard,” she cursed under her breath.

She didn’t dare glance his way. She could envision the smugness already and she was determined not to reward him with a reaction. Closing her eyes, she changed positions – centering her entire weight on her rear, raising both arms and legs, so her core would support the suspended limbs. She reached out her hands towards her elevated feet but not making contact.

_Breath in. And out. Almost done. IN. OUT. Fuck – it hurts!_

“Crunches help, too.”

“Fuck off,” she growled, dismissing him.

He chuckled, not the least offended. She ignored his eyes but in her peripheral, she could see him kneel next to her, assessing her form with mild scrutiny.

“I don’t need an audience,” she reminded sternly.

“I’m done with my workout – I’ll wait until you’re done with yours so we can head home.”

“You’re infuriating,” she hissed, still holding her pose. It was agonizing.

She finally released, falling back onto the floor in a huff. Her legs flopped loudly onto the mat. Her stomach was burning.

“Twelve crunches and we call it a day,” Nick negotiated.

“You’re not my coach,” she rejected.

Yet, she felt his hands grab the front of her shoes, holding them down.

“No,” she whined. “You interrupted my cardio and now you’re dictating my work-out? Nick!”

“I’m trying to help,” he insisted with light laughter.

“Just admit victory and move on,” she exclaimed. His hand shifted to her knee and she looked up to see him beam down at her.

“Calling it quits?” he challenged.

“Sure,” she submitted disgruntledly.

He reached out both hands for her to take; she obliged. Just as he was about to lift her, she raised her feet up to his abdomen and leaned backward, rolling onto her back and lifting him airborne for a split second until she had enough leverage to shift him to the side. He tumbled onto the floor beside her with a noticeable thump.

That’s what she thought until his hands curled around her wrist, taking her with him, and she, too, found herself tumbling. She didn’t have a second to utter a shriek, instead finding herself under his weight when he used the momentum to roll over her.

“Damnit! Why do you have to be on top every single time!?” She slapped his shoulder when he refused to budge. He grinned down at her, smitten.

“Clever but,” he said, “not today, sweetheart.”

“You suck,” she seethed, crinkling her nose as she did.

“Just like old times, huh?” he teased, leaning down for a chaste kiss.

“I can’t believe I married you,” she mumbled, softening under him.

“But you did,” Nick gloated. “I missed this spark,” he added, patting her hip. “Had I known you’d be this riled up, I’d sign us for a 5K sooner.”

“Why are you trying to kill me?” she complained in whisper, utterly defeated.

“If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it by now; tormenting you is a completely different story,” he chirped.


End file.
